Military Actions
by Darbracken
Summary: When America stations troops on the border of Russia Ivan is livid and goes to pay Alfred a visit. Contains yaoi, non-con, pain, bondage, darkness and general unpleasantness. Also smut.


Thank you to everyone who reviews my fiction! Honestly I feel so bad not replying to every single one of you with massive hugs and squishes and generally seeming like an antisocial recluse.

I apologise before for this fic, firstly it's not betaed because although I gave it to my other half months ago to edit for me she's not had the time to do so. Secondly because this contains Dark!Russia. I almost feel guilty for writing him in dark themes but I do feel he has this sadistic, controlling side and Kyogou who I co-wrote this with really wanted to see it out in the open.

I'm dedicating this to Canadia in hopes that she gets well soon!

If for any reason anyone wants to stalk me I RP Arthur Kirkland (seme mode) on tumblr under theenglisharecoming [dot] tumblr [dot]com Currently there is wonderful England x Russia x England smut.

Someone had told America that he was coming, that was the only explanation he could think of for Molossia being splayed out underneath America's bed. "Silly Merican.. Comrade you freeze to death in Russia winter if you lay on floor, da?" Seizing the ankle he pulled the frame out into the room and almost tenderly plucked it up before he placed the man onto the bed.

Deciding to be kind to the protective, yet tiny nation Russia piled furs onto his frame, taking childish delight in seeing how high he could stack them without suffocating or waking him. "Tehe, you sleep like dog. Russia will look after da? Until Alfred comes to see Russia anyway." Russia pulled up a wooden chair and settled upon it, crossing a boot clad calf over his knee as he watched the other slumber with his eerie amethyst gaze.

Eyes narrowed, a little laugh tricked out that sounded as dangerous as it was sickly sweet. "Hey Mr. Alfred friend, Russia just realised you should become one with Russia, live in Russia's house… big place of many people, all cold together. You too also will be there." If Molossia had awakened in the interim the sight of the large Russian leaning over him would no doubt have caused him to expire. Blissfully though he slumbered on as cold finger tips tousled unruly strands, flattening them quite insistently.

"Russia has bit work, be ok, Russia will ask Lithuania to keep company. Happy times for all." Grasping Lithuania tightly, shoulders creaked under the pressure of his hold before he sat him down in the seat he had been occupying. "You look after Mr. America friend... no leaving da?" Lithuania nodded sheepishly then once the Russian had left pulled away a few of the furs so Molossia wouldn't overheat.

Sometime later Russia returned, neither Lithuania nor Molossia had remained to greet him. With a perplexed tilt of his head he went instead to occupy America's study. Soon the other super power would appear and then it would be time to interrogate him. Quietly he observed his surroundings, taking in the various gifts from heads of state and the pictures of America with friends and family. Lips had just begun to curl in displeasure as he heard the front door being pushed open as the brash American strode to his office apparently knowing nothing of his presence.

" Ahh it's my good comrade Mr Alfred."

America paused, biting his tongue softly as his eyes narrowed. Just who he needed to see at a time like this... "What are you doing in my house?" Russia's head canted before he pushed forwards onto his feet, standing a good few inches taller. Sedately he walked to the wall and unhooked the flag that hung astride Alfred's desk and casually draped it over his shoulder. "I think you will find this is Russia's home now."

The American scowled darkly, "Like hell it's your house! I don't know where you get off waltzing into people's houses and calling it your own, but that won't be happening here, you got that you stupid Commie?" A finger jabbed in his general direction, the defiance obviously clear in his aura.

Almost lovingly Russia lifted the stars and stripes to his face, inhaling the clean scent of freedom, letting it fill his lungs before amethyst flickered to the irate Alfred. Darkness brewed beyond the icy gaze, lips deliberately brushing the silky material before his mentality seemed to shift. "Sorry Comrade but Russia did not stop by to exchange pleasant times, as fun as that is." From nowhere a metal pipe swung neatly at the American's skull with more than enough force to knock him out but not enough to kill him.

Fists clenched, anger roused as the American had stormed forwards to rip the sacred flag from the hands that defiled it. Unfortunately though he only managed about two steps, "Give that back, you fucking C-" A tingle spread through his brow, a touch of premonition before he glanced over his shoulder and was soon met with darkness.

Ivan smiled lightly as the American crumpled onto his knees and then onto the floor. "Teehee... America you amuse Russia so much with your foul mouth. Did England teach you that?" Picking up the body he started to haul it away. As strong as he was with that much raw muscle and bulk it was no easy task.

~*Scene change*~

The room was dark, the scent of dampness rife in the air as coldness pervaded every place. It was a place one might imagine people came to die, or at least the closest place on Earth that extended a nod to hell. Wrists and ankles had been shackled by thick leather cuffs to an iron chair, a bright light shone directly into his face. America had not stirred, yet at least. In the distance a faint melody played, melancholy, spinning out as though from some long ago discarded radio that refused to die where all else laid in defeat.

For a long moment he didn't move an inch, but the brightness that caressed his face soon brought him to stir and he groaned, raising a hand to try and block out the stark light. However the light did not go away and soon enough eyelids flew open when the American discovered he could not use his hand to wave away the light. Sure enough, as he had started to suspect, limbs were bound and he growled, tugging on them uselessly. Great, now where was he? Last he remembered was the silver flash of something swinging towards his head... yes, his head hurt quite a bit now that he thought about it.

If anything the light seemed only to intensify, burning brightly into those irrepressible sapphire depths, as endless as the vast skies above the American's head. Here was not the world of freedom though; here was only a place of despair.

As eyes began to adjust more of the room would come into focus. Nondescript grey walls were only broken by two things, a tiny window high towards the celling that was barred and let in a little light and a large steel door. Other than that there was a large slab of concrete big enough to lay on, a bucket, a table, a smear of dried blood that trailed from the block to the door and one large figure sat on a wooden chair a little distance away.

"So you are awake, Russia thought you might sleep forever. Russia welcomes you to Moscow." Of course it wasn't Moscow but the chill in the air was convincing enough to make him think that he had been moved somewhere nearer to the crazed man's home. Instead of his usual uniform Russia was adorned in stark ebony fabric, broken only by strips of white, his white gloves and brown leather weapon harness. About his throat was the obligatory scarf, the military cap he was wearing tilted enough that the peak hid his eyes.

America's eyes narrowed again, trying to focus on the voice that spoke to him and somehow diminish the amount of light that was attempting to blind him. Wonderful, he thought to himself, I'm trapped in the middle of hell knows where with a crazy-ass communist. Life just seemed to get worse and worse and at this point he was ready to go and blow something up for no reason if only to satisfy the gaping helplessness he had felt over the last few months.

"Tch... what the hell, Russia. Seriously, what. The. Hell. Let me go right now or I swear to God I'll have the entire American military on your Ruskie ass!"

A hand lifted and gently tilted the lamp's head down so the luminance pooled on the American's lap, leaving him dazed but soon able to see more clearly. A surprisingly innocuous brown envelope was placed onto the table before the Russian's head finally tilted enough to glimpse at the eerie amethyst vision that lay below his hat.

"No America, or should Russia say Alfred..? They will not be here. All your military is in Iraq and Afghanistan, though it is about them we need to speak." A hand lifted, pristine white gloves cupping the other's cheek, a delighted hue slipping into his gaze. "We can do this easy or Russia can make it hard. Russia hopes you like hard for he likes hard too. Alfred what are your military doing on border between Russia and Kazakhstan?"

Angrily the prisoner snarled, hands clenching against the steel of the chair he was bound to before he spat, teeth bared. No doubt the last person he would tell anything to was the Russian. "It's nothing to do with you, Russia, so keep your fat nose out of other people's business." Furiously he emphasized using the other's country name, obviously disapproving of how easily Russia had used his human name as if they were the best of friends, or more.

Fingertips trailed into blonde locks so tenderly, as though touching his beloved but below the deceptive gentleness was steel and malice. The very air around him felt cold, unremorseful, inhuman. "But dear Alfred it has -everything- to do with Russia. Here, we have fun times, Russia will tell you story."

A revolver was placed upon the table; hands retracting from his face to flick open the chamber, showing the American clearly that it was not loaded.

"Once there were some soldiers, they became lost in the woods on the edge of Russia and winter closed in, almost freezing them." Deliberately he withdrew a single bullet from his pocket and slid it into place after admiring it in the dull light.

"Russia found them as they were about to die and took them in, feed them soup, warmed them. Do you know what soldiers did Alfred? Did to Russia?" Fingers calmly rolled the chamber back into position, giving it a playful spin. "One put gun to Russia's head." Lifting the revolver he placed the slick muzzle to America's temple. "And he said Russia should die, just like that. Imagine how Russia felt, he so nice and soldier only wanted to kill."

Alarmed America tried to move his head away from the gun pressed so snuggly to his temple, unable to supress the few slick drops of perspiration that slid down the side of his face. The majority of his being was blowing off the story as if deciding that Russia was simply telling him more pointless crap he could care less about. However he didn't do so completely, eyes narrowing as the small portion of his being wondered why anyone would want to shoot their saviour. After all, he was the hero. Everyone he had taken in showered him with praise and lived peacefully in his jumbled country of mixed religions and ethnics. "Okay and that has anything to do with my country how?"

Without warning the Russian cuffed his temple lightly with the barrel of the revolver before he lifted it away and placed it to his own temple, continuing to talk in a rich Russian accent, voice dropping to a sensual baritone ripple.

"Just like this Alfred, he pointed gun at Russia and said he should die. All Russia wanted was for everyone to be equal. Even Alfred 'once had dream' right? Russia was scared, this man wanted to kill but we do not die easy and after he had shot Russia many times in head he realised Russia would not die so easily, so he tried to stab again and again but it would not work."

An amused smile broke across his lips but his vision remained utterly icy, hateful. "So then he tried to degrade Russia." The revolver tilted, stroking it down his own cheek until he drug his tongue across the tip. "Do you know where soldier came from?"

It would be no surprise...

"After soldier became tired from not killing Russia, Russia killed him instead. Humans die so easy but Alfred would know." Placing the muzzle against the roof of his mouth suddenly he pulled the trigger, not even tensing as the hammer silkily clicked back into place, no bullet discharged. Placing the gun back onto the table as though he hadn't nearly blown his brains out he crossed over to the restrained American and sat on the edge of the table. "Russia's English is good da? He practices lots for this."

The American paled considerably and even the muscles of his face contorted as he heard the sound of the gun fire, bringing back thousands of memories he had no desire to relive. As they flooded through him, he growled again and shut his eyes only to open them to see if indeed the other had been stupid enough to shoot himself but of course, there he still was, as creepy as ever.

"O-Okay... so... remind me again what any of this has to do with my troops being in Kazakhstan. I haven't given them any orders to go around blindly shooting at anyone, though I'm sure I would be absolutely thrilled if they brought me your body. Fucking communist."

A gloved hand seized his shoulder, crushing down with enough force to break his collarbone, had he been just any human.

"Take them from border or Russia will kill them without mercy. Russia will not warn twice, he will bury you if he has to."

Releasing Alfred's shoulder fingertips crawled down the warm expanse of his chest, marvelling at how heat radiated from the young body. How it craved life and freedom, how wanton it was. Russia hated it, he wanted to crush it. "Also Russia wants to repay the fun he had with soldier with soldier's Master." Platinum lashes narrowed as the gloved hand sunk down to rest his palm firmly on the crotch of the American's military breeches.

Alfred almost instantly lurched, or at least tried to but only managed an odd sort of jerk in the chair as he attempted to get away from the other's touch. "N-no! T-Take your hands off of me, filthy communist swine...!" Inside he felt a bubble of panic swell as he had nowhere really to go. Try as he might, he could not break his binds and even if he had there was no real place to escape except the barred window which was obviously out of the question.

Wait, why was he even thinking of escaping? He was the hero, and this was the sort of things heroes could easily get through! But how many heroes get touched like this by the villain? His mind pointed this out and Alfred paled again, everything about the situation looking like it was rapidly going from bad to worse. "No... no thanks, I don't think any sort of repayment is necessary and stop calling me Alfred like you know me!"

Soft lips hovered only a fraction away from Alfred's ear, warm breath skimming down his throat as words were whispered intently in Russian before English broke through again.

"Alfred no want to be... how say... nice with Russia?"

Almost lazily he palmed the sizeable length he felt below the other's trousers, tightening gloved digits enough to run them up either sides of his manhood, straightening it out. "Russia can make feel good, or bad.. Russia gets what wants either case." Seizing blonde strands he pulled Alfred sharply up to smash lips together, his hand dropping to cover the American's left hand.

"Nyet, Russia is not sorry **Ame-ri-ka**!" With the name came an excruciating amount of pain as he squeezed with enough force to dislocate the American's thumb so he could drag his wrist out of the cuff without unbuckling it. "Would like be Alfred again?" A little smile fluttered across his features as he looked down at the hand.

Alfred bit his lip to prevent any sound slipping out unwanted as he was palmed, trying with all his might to keep Florida from having any sort of reaction whatsoever. Doing that though was a lot harder than he expected, especially in the face of such large, warm hands. He jerked, trying to smack his own head against something to clear his mind of the thoughts running through it, but an entirely different pain erupted from his hand instead and he yelped, instinctively trying to draw his hand back and see what damage had been done. It hurt. Seemingly his thumb had been completely dislodged, giving his hand a disfigured look even through the black leather of his glove. "F-fuck... Dude, not cool! Get... get off! Get away from me!"

"Nyet, Russia wants to play." With that he tugged forth the damaged hand and lofted it, kissing the disfigured thumb almost affectionately. "Play with Russia Alfred, will be lot fun." Unlocking the cuff from the chair he replaced it around the American's left wrist, unlocking the right with similar ease. Using his greater weight he hauled the younger by the bounds to the table, locking his wrists to the end.

"Alfred will like on table, da?" Eyes narrowed, a sweet smile seeming to suggest if he didn't comply he might break his kneecaps and haul him onto it anyway. Carefully he holstered the gun, clicking the safety on.

With an almost a freaked out look Alfred watched the Russian, knowing exactly what it was he was intending to do to him and not exactly liking the idea either, not like that. Heroes didn't get sexually harassed like this! Right? Faced with the decision of either complying or having more of his body parts dislodged or worse, broken, he grit his teeth and snarled. He had no choice but to somehow shift his weight more onto the table, keeping the other in his sight at all times as if doing so he might find some sort of escape route. "Don't call me Alfred!"

An almost gleeful look perked lips, grasping blonde locks as the Russian smashed America's face down into the table without remorse. "Da... **Amerika**..." Dumb creatures took longer to learn and capitalist pigs were some of the dumbest of the all. Soon though, even he would come to associate not allowing the Russian to call him by name with tormenting pain.

Reaching up firm hands pulled away fatigues, leaving the lower half of the captured nation exposed, after struggling briefly with his shoes. "Florida is so small... look how cute is comrade... no wonder you needed very tiny."

Lightly a fingertip flicked across the tip of his manhood, rubbing the slit in a way that bordered on uncomfortable. "Teehee are all capitalist pigs so greedy? Look it's stirring for Russia. It greedily wants everything, just like you."

"Ow! Fuck..." Alfred didn't seem at all impressed when it felt like his nose was almost broken; fortunately having a streak of tenacity that somehow had kept him alive all this time. Many emotions welled up inside of his chest; fear, loathing, anxiousness, a twinge of something he was even more scared of than he was of the communist that held him captive. This feeling had somehow responded to the other in a way America was definitely not approving of, kindling something that in turn made the soft length in the other's hand twitch. Shit... shit! Not cool at all, this just sucks! He shut his eyes tight as if doing so would hide him from the world. "It's... it's not... small, bastard... doesn't want..."

Russia wrapped fabric firmly around the length and ensnared it, slowly stroking it from root to tip. "Nonsense, it wants Alfred. Tell Russia how Florida feels, is good da?" Of course it was good, crazed amethyst eyes could see every action that betrayed the American's body.

"As country you do not like owned, but as a man... Is this why you stay so long with puny England man? Don't worry Russia can do good, better." Hot breath played against the other's ear in the form of faint pants, a very obvious bulge pressed into the crease of flesh that thus far protected what he was sure was a cute pucker of muscle.

What happened next was sure to freeze the American's blood as the soft knowing click of a safety coming off was followed by the unmistakeable cold steel of a gun muzzle being forcefully pressed up to and then penetrating into his body.

Alfred hissed softly before his eyes flew open again, feeling that... thing... dear God, just how big was Russia? He didn't seriously think he was going to make it fit somehow, did he? Another pause and he smacked himself mentally as he realized he was thinking as if he was actually going to let this happen.

However with each passing moment, things began to look grimmer and grimmer. Yet another flare of anger welled up when his dear friend was brought into this madness. "Don't you dare... talk about Arthur like tha- Ahh! SHIT!" He lurched as something very cold was pressed to a place he definitely wasn't comfortable with the other touching.

Perhaps it amused him, perhaps it merely irritated him, whatever the emotion was though was guarded by the brim of his hat that obscured pale features and cold amethyst vision. Certainly though speaking of England had riled the younger nation and it was something to remember, to use. "Belove Arthur da? You mean one who did not help in cold war? I remember, he look like Latvia. Maybe Russia can press down on his head too."

Forcefully he pushed the muzzle of the gun deeper, the metal not smooth and meant for such actions. "Oh good Alfred, you swallow. Shall we play game? Either you beg to become one with Russia or Russia pulls trigger."

Deft fingers continued to tease and roll over the man's arousal, pausing to roll the tip into his gloved palm. The free hand wandered fingertips over soft mounds before he could be felt sliding his index through the trigger of the gun, smiling down sadistically at his trapped prey. "This is so much fun... We must do again, if you survive."

The American did not like the sound of that choice at all. He most certainly didn't want the other to shoot a bullet straight up through his intestines, but even more so he didn't want to sacrifice his pride as a man, as a nation. He also didn't want Arthur out of all the others to have to suffer through this, to have to feel the pain and fear he was feeling now. Just imagining Arthur's face contorted as he swallowed Russia's length into his being... Another growl tore through his throat. He had no choice.

"T-Tch... you... leave Arthur out of this... and I'll... I'll..." Having to swallow his pride was the hardest thing in the world to do. "... I'll... do it..."

Anger roused and he shoved the gun in sharply as he heard words in a language he found he hated, wanting to taint the sunny blonde with the beautiful words of his mother tongue. "Beg comrade; beg like the corporate whore you are."

Pale lashes narrowed as he languidly fucked the heated body with the cold metal, though it would not be enough to prepare him for his own large girth. "Say it Alfred... Say you want to become one with Russia and Russia will leave little England all alone." A tender kiss was pressed to his temple before his trigger finger twitched violently.

"BANG!"

Though the word was merely shouted the sudden noise in conjunction with the trigger being pulled no doubt send the American's heart crazy. Pulling blood slick metal from the bruised pucker he examined the gun, it quite fortunate that it hadn't actually fired yet. "Only kidding comrade seems no bullet for you today." With that he clicked the safety on before sliding it some distance away.

Eyes were wide as he gripped the end of the table until his knuckles had gone stark white, seriously having thought for a moment that the other had shot him but the only pain that he could feel was the burning of having been stretched so unfamiliarly in such a manner. Angrily he gritted his teeth as he bit back the desire to sob. This absolutely sucked but if he could guarantee England's safety then he was still the hero. He would still be protecting the people that were important, and if that meant a bit of humiliation then it was obvious what choice he had to make.

"P-.. please..."

The sound of his zipper broke through the otherwise quiet ambience of fear and the far away radio which had begun to play one of Tchaikovsky's ballets.

"Please what Alfred?"

The thick length grazed along the valley slowly, friction heating skin before the very tip pressed up hard to the abused muscles. Unable to help himself a tiny shiver danced down his spine, the power intoxicating as he looked down at the prostrate super power who was begging to be filled.

Tightening his grip around the other's arousal he stroked roughly to redirect his attention before he drove in quick and ruthless into the taut passage, filling it until it felt like it was going to tear. "Oh, not all fit in yet Alfred, you need relax."

A cheerful giggle hid the fact that he was biting his lips to prevent himself from grunting in pleasure at the tight, hot body that swallowed him, eagerly continuing to force his way in until his hips pressed against the younger's rump. "Da... all in... feels good nyet?"

Alfred swallowed at first when he felt the largeness of the other pressing up to him, inwardly crying as he knew that what he was about to go through would be no easy pleasant process. Then it started, and no matter how hard he bit down on his lip or tongue he could not hold back a scream of pain, able to feel every part of him that was torn open, forced past and even then some when he was told it wasn't even all in yet.

There was no way, he thought, that anyone should be this massive, have this much girth to their nether regions. It hurt way more than anything else but there was an odd sort of satisfaction of feeling so stuffed, though he would never ever admit it. "Fuck... no... it hurts like hell..."

A giddy little laugh roused from behind his head, the military cap suddenly coming to sit in his line of vision. "Well, it feels good for Russia so is ok." Despite the blatant sadism he displayed even he paused, perhaps the suffocating tightness of the American's body forcing him to wait but for the other the rest bite would seem all too short.

Whether the blonde screamed in pain or pleasure it was all the same: incredibly erotic and only helping to stiffen the large intruding organ further. Setting up a leisurely pace to torture his victim he never-the-less angled hips so he smoothly grazed that special point within that would have the American seeing stars other than those on his flag. "Ivan da? Say Ivan, comrade. If do then Russia will praise…"

"No.. no way in hell I'll call you I-..." That spot was bumped, causing him to gasp against his will before his eyes shut tight again in shame. Damn it, he could only do as he was told otherwise Arthur would be in jeopardy. He swore the next time he saw the Englishman he was going to force him to make him feel better for having to take all of this, just to save his stupid hide. But those were the glories and rewards of being a hero, right? Alfred bit his lip again, struggling. "Please... I-Ivan..."

A throb danced down the length of his arousal as he heard his name upon the American's lips. No Tsar, no crazed dictator could take that one thing from him, the only thing that gave him a link to humanity at all. Hearing pliant lips speak it, acknowledge it brought a heat to his mostly frozen heart, before it faded away as swiftly as a blizzard rolled into Siberia.

To the delicate beats of the ballet he undid the other's body, pounding slowly but firmly, relishing the yielding flesh that grasped him like a longing lover. Returning his attention to the neglected Florida he resumed his ministration, setting a counterpoint tempo to that of his thrusts. "Da.. Ivan.." A hot long sigh shifted through blonde strands before he bit down on his neck almost tenderly. "Al..Alfred.."

Alfred tried hard to see anyone else's face as he was pounded into, anyone but the communist who was lavishing such conflicting emotions upon him. One moment he felt immense pain, but soon it was overtaken and he almost squealed when such massive length pressed up against his sweet spot, the area found so easily thanks to the other's size. He couldn't help it, half the things he started to burble incoherently and even more so when he felt large hands taking up Florida so firmly, squeezing it. "I-Ivan! Shit... shit..! No.. please...!"

A breath chuckle whispered close to his ear as strong hips surged forwards, jolting the table slightly, perhaps the only nation in the world that could subjugate America, and how delirious a feeling. Light lashes fluttered, strands so pale they were almost ivory sticking to pale flesh as amethyst slits raked down the other's spine until they reached where they were joined together, where he had invaded.

"Da.. Alfred.. Alfred.. Russia will.. Russia.." Words fell away into soft Russian curses, frantically starting to caress Florida with a light touch, determined to make America topple first.

Somewhere in the remaining sane portion of his mind, or the part Alfred reckoned as 'the hero', the curiosity sparked and it pondered what the other had been about to say but his thoughts were lost to the throes of pleasure that erupted from the way the other simply rode him perfectly. England, no, not even England had ever made him feel like this, this complete.

"I-Ivan!" And with that, he came hard onto the other's hand and the table, staining it in memory of what had just transpired.

Hearing the other calling out his name in pleasure trailed down his spine and settled into his stomach heavy and unmoving. The all hated Russia, all of them, only Belarus wanted anything to do with him and his sister could give even him sleepless nights. Heat had rushed too far though, the heady taste of power and tight muscles of the American forcing him to fall off the cliff edge with him, heat spilling into the tight depths.

Unceremoniously he pulled out, letting a hot wash of blood and release spill between the other's legs in his absence. Stickily he pushed his length back into his trousers and zipped them up. Uncharacteristically silent he uncuffed the man, the cap lofted and placed back atop his head so his eyes were shielded, the only evidence of their coupling the few droplets of perspiration visible on his jaw. Or at least presumably it was sweat.

"America can leave now." Words were soft, barely audible as his abdomen lurched with nausea as the tiny sane part of his mind was weighed down by the act he had just violently committed to the other man who sweetly had cried out in pleasure for him, he a man who, no one thought should exist.

Alfred gasped softly, eyes shut so that no one but he would know just what exactly was going through his mind. He felt... no, even he could scarcely tell what his body was trying to communicate to him. As he panted harshly, he sniffed a bit and simply let his face rest against the cold surface below him, too weak and beaten to be able to move anywhere at the moment. "B-Bastard..."

The conflict in Russia's mind was just too great. Part of him wanted to tend to the American's wounds, almost to apologise but that part had been swallowed by centuries of struggle and depravity, the depths of which the American couldn't even imagine. The majority felt the warm satiation only release could muster and the sweet taste of victory over one of his greatest rivals.

A glove hand lifted to wipe along his jaw, pushing away the 'sweat'. "Get out Comrade, Russian army is close, if they arrive what Russia did will seem like pleasant dream. Russia will come to house again, bring flowers, now go." Straightening he unruffled his military uniform, straightening shoulders as though he had every intention to go and stall his own army to give the other time to escape.

Very slowly the blonde pressed palms to the stone beneath and somehow got up onto his elbows at first, looking over his shoulder and -unable to see the other's eyes- stared at him in a strange mixture of confusion and... He shook his head again, none of this made sense.

The Russian was right; however, about getting out before he was stumbled upon by the army, but it was doubtful that he could get back to America once he figured out where he was. Instead he decided he would go to the only person he felt he could take solace in. Unsteadily he stood, somehow pulling his clothing back up into a modest fashion before he quickly brushed past the other, not daring a look behind him as he made his way for Britain.


End file.
